


Camping Across the USA and Trying Not to Die in the Meantime

by unholygrass



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One Word Prompts, Short Stories, requests open on tumblr
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22991779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unholygrass/pseuds/unholygrass
Summary: From Boston to Pittsburgh to Jackson, Ellie and Joel travel more than 2803 miles together. Here are a couple of the shenanigans they get into.
Relationships: Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 99





	1. Break

**Author's Note:**

> I'm hoping to do a whole bunch of these and make a collection's worth of stories here based on one word prompts. If you have a prompt for a word, put it in the comments or send me an ask on tumblr at Feralellie.

They’ve been walking for _seven hours_ — granted, not at the fastest pace, but seven hours nonetheless. Seven hours of shuffling through Indianapolis, dodging stray bandits and looting through various abandoned apartment complexes and cars in the warm September sun.

They don’t actually go into the city— Joel says it’s too dangerous, and Ellie is inclined to believe him. They’ve had their most peaceful moments furthest from civilization, so she has no problem sticking to the freeway if it gets them there just the same.

Or, at least she HAD thought that, maybe six hours ago when her feet didn’t hurt so bad and her shoulders didn’t ache under the weight in her backpack. When they had been climbing over a concrete wall earlier she had slipped a little and landed wrong on her ankle— not enough to swell it or keep her from moving— but enough to hurt like hell and cause pain to shoot through her foot with each step. Joel had asked her if she was alright, and she’d lied on instinct, determined to walk it off.

And, to be fair, she had. For seven hours she had— but now they’d been going for a good long while, and the sun is still high in the sky. They tend to keep walking until dusk before finding a place to set up camp, but the sun seems determined to drag, and the day is certainly lasting forever.

“Ellie?” Joel asks, his voice distant. She looks up quickly, shocked out of her painful musings to find him much further away than she remembered him being. Fuck, had she really slowed down that much?

“Sorry,” She says, already moving forward— but her ankle gives out under her, and she goes lurching to the side. She catches herself on the fence next to her with a sharp _“fuck—“_

“Ellie—“ Joel says again, but she isn’t listening to him, too briefly overwhelmed by the stabbing throb that engulfs her foot.

“ _Ow_.” She swears under her breath, picking her foot up to take the pressure off it. She looks up and sees Joel steadily making his way back towards her, not rushing but not dawdling either.

“What’s wrong?” He says, coming around a rusted minivan. There’s a deep frown on his face. “What did you do?”

She almost scowls— she didn’t _do_ anything. “I think I actually did hurt my ankle earlier. It kinda hurts.” She admits, downplaying it on instinct. Joel is a no drama man, and she honestly doesn’t want to be the reason they have to slow down.

He stops in front of her, giving her a hard look for a moment before hefting a heavy sigh. He glances around them for a long moment, taking in their surroundings completely before almost deflating. He exhales again before gesturing to her vaguely. “Well, I guess we’ll take a break.”

At first she isn’t sure how to take that— but Joel shrugs off his backpack and half sits on the car behind him. “Sit down. Lemme see it.”

“It’s fine—“ She starts, but he cuts her off with that no nonsense tone.

“Ellie— Don’t. Just show me.” He says, already sounding tired and done with the whole thing— then again, he always sounds like that.

“It’s fine—“ She protests again even as she plops down on her ass, landing on the asphalt and starting to untie her shoe.

“It’s not even swollen or purple or anything, I already looked—“ She tugs her sock off and gingerly holds her foot out in front of her. She’s not wrong— aside from the pain, her ankle looks normal and healthy.

“Hmph.” Joel huffs, leaning forward on his elbows. He doesn’t actually grab her, just moves to see. “Well, you’re right about that.” He nods to her shoe and she gets to work on putting her sock back on.

“Told you,” She says without hesitation— if he had just listened to her—

Joel doesn’t grace that with an answer, just looks around them again, dark eyes sweeping over the concrete wall that separate the freeway from the cornfields. There’s a lone barn house some couple hundred yards away, and it looks to be in decent condition.

“So what now?” She asks, waiting on his response. She’s not sure she can realistically keep walking— her entire body hurts, actually, now that she’s stopped moving, her shoulders ache fiercely from her backpack and her knees throb along to the beat of her ankle.

“Well,” Joel says, and his voice doesn’t hold the resentment she had been fearing— instead he just sounds tired. “We stop for the night. Rest up, see how it’s feeling in the morning. Not much else we can do.”

In the moment Ellie finds that she appreciates Joel’s ‘no none sense move along’ attitude now more than ever. Apparently he wasn’t going to make a big deal out of this— he just planned to deal with it and carry on as always. Sure, he still might give her hell, but he seemed content to stop for the day plenty early. The sun stayed up late this time a year, and it can’t be any later than 5 based on where it is in the sky.

“You can’t walk on it?” He asks, and she shrugs before placing her foot gingerly onto the ground, and applying more pressure to see if it can hold weight— it can’t.

She doesn’t get to answer before Joel’s already offering her his hand. “Stay off it.”

She takes his offer and he easily lifts her to her good foot where she balances. He shrugs off his own backpack. “Take off your pack— you’ll have to carry mine and put yours on top of it.” She leans against the car behind her and does as he says even though for a moment she’s just confused why she’s suddenly carrying his shit—

Or, at least she is at first, because then Joel turns and crouches in front of her. “Here. Come on.”

She blinks, finally comprehending and immediately slinging Joel’s heavy pack onto her back. It’s bulky as fuck and big as hell, and by the time she manages to get her own bag on top of it, Joel’s just kneeling casually, obviously waiting on her to get situated.

“Sorry.” She says quickly, leaning forward and balancing herself by grabbing his shoulders. She almost hesitates, but she’s been on Riley’s back enough times to know that it’s easiest just to jump.

To Joel’s credit he only takes it with a grunt, settling her against his back in only a moment and steadily getting to his feet again. She wraps her arms around his shoulders as he hikes her up higher and begins to walk vaguely towards where he saw the farmhouse.

“You’re strong.” She says because it pops in her brain.

Joel makes a vague grunt in the back of his throat. She’s been around him long enough to have no problem accepting it as an adequate response to conversation.

They cross the freeway and Joel climbs over a small concrete wall to walk on the grass next to the corn fields. There’s a handful of trees planted around the house, and they rustle in the breeze with the grass. The hot days of summer had finally passed, and they were entering the time of warm breezes and chilly nights.

“Ellie.” Joel says firmly, and she instantly knows what’s coming— “You gotta _tell_ me when you get hurt. If you’ve made it worse—“

“It didn’t hurt this bad earlier!” She defends, interrupting him.

“If you get hurt, you have to say something. Do you understand?” He says, and his grip on her legs tightens just a smidge.

She rolls her eyes to the sky. Joel doesn’t want to hear what she has to say about it.

“I understand.” She bites out, trying not to give into the sudden rebellious urge to subtly strangle him where her arms are around his neck until he told her off.

“If we have to get away from somewhere fast, and you can’t run and I don’t know that— do you see how dangerous that is? I need to know if you get hurt.” His voice is hard, and she knows exactly how his face looks like— eyes steely and inescapable.

“Yes, okay—“ She groans, already tired of being berated.

“I need to know that I can rely on you, and if we havta stop, then so be it.” He finishes with a sigh, slowing his pace some the closer they get to the house. She knows he’s listening for signs of life, so even though she’d love nothing more than to express her displeasure at his lectures, she bites her tongue and tries also to hear anything over the gentle trees.

The house is silent. Joel picks up his pace.

“I just tripped and rolled my ankle.” She explains flatly. “You can rely on me.” Her voice is determined, and she feels him take a deep breath.

“I know.” He says. “I know I can.”


	2. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie runs for her life. Joel snatches her out of harms way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving writing these. im sorry if im putting them out very slowly because im in college rn and we have midterms and i also just started a new job lol so yeah ive been going very slow but I am going to do everyone's prompts! I love them all and im super excited because these are super fun for me to explore with the characters.

The rubber soles of her converse pound against concrete as she sprints across a weed infested driveway. Her backpack thumps heavily against her spine with each step, and she tightens her grip on its straps to keep it from throwing her off balance. There are at least three Runners only a handful of meters behind her, and she knows one misstep means being torn apart by them.

“ _Joel!”_ She screams on instinct, hoping the man is nearby—he never goes too far—she scans the yard as she runs but doesn’t see him—he must be inside. “ _Joel!”_

Her shout is almost lost in the savage shrieking of the infected right on her tail—they’re hungry, and they want her more than anything. Some distant part of her mind wishes they still didn’t sound so fucking human, because god _damn_ is it fucking _terrifying_ —

They’re right behind her, practically snapping at her heels. Her lungs burn, and at one point she swears she can feel the brushing fingers of the loudest Runner _almost_ snatching her sweatshirt— she has no coherent thoughts tumbling in her head, just feral instincts that push burning air through her lungs and scream at her to _run._

Her fumbling fingers slide into her coat pocket where they wrap around the worn blade of her knife, and while having it in her hand is a nice thought, she knows that if they catch her no amount of stabbing and slashing with save her. There are too many voices behind her, and if they get her pinned—

Three years ago, she and Riley had gone exploring in the abandoned financial district, and they’d gotten trapped in an old storage closet while Clickers swarmed outside. They’d usually been smart enough not to have to deal with the infected, but this time they’d been caught off guard, and it had come down to hiding in the closet until the Clickers were done devouring whatever poor animal they’d gotten ahold of or risk become their next meal themselves. She can still remember leaning against Riley’s chest with bated breath while watching as four Infected tore apart something furry until it resembled nothing but blood and guts and bone—they hadn’t needed anything but their fingers and their teeth to completely decimate it down to a puddle—

And now, at the most inopportune point of her life, in the handful of moments right before she herself either falls victim to their wicked hands and gnawing teeth, she finds herself recalling the memory—which is fine, because it’s not like she’s a little fucking busy right now anyway.

She doesn’t want to be torn apart alive—she wants to live and find a functioning car with Joel and throw wadded up pieces of paper at his head until he finally tells her off about it and go to Jackson and meet his brother and see Marlene again—

Her toes catch on an uneven edge of the sidewalk, and it nearly trips her. Nothing but pure luck keeps her from falling on her face and dying right there.

She hears a loud clang from inside the house directly in front of her—Joel had gone off in this direction. It’s either him or more infected, so she makes a decision.

She veers off the sidewalk she’s been running on and beelines for the front door that’s swung open on its hinges, a dust cloud still hanging around it from hopefully whenever Joel kicked it open.

Something hot brushes against her back, and she grinds her teeth together as she wrenches herself forward desperately. She flies through the front door in one leaping step because to trip now would be death—and then is cleanly swept off the ground and swung around a sharp corner by large arms _—“Oh fuck!”_ —

Joel’s lifted her behind a wall in a tight embrace, and the Runners go flying into the house behind them, already confused about where their meal had just gone. Joel keeps ahold of her with one arm and uses the shotgun he holds in the other to blow the heads off of the two Infected the closest to them, and the third is done in by a sharp curb stomp to the skull that Joel doesn’t even have to release Ellie to accomplish.

“Oh fuck—“ She gasps, wheezing for air and incapable of currently expressing anything other than obscenities. There’s sweat dripping down her neck and her muscles are tight, ready to explode into action at any second despite the neutralized threat. She kinda feels like throwing up, but that might just be the fact that she almost died. _“Shit.”_

Joel’s lowering his shotgun, one of his arms still wrapped tightly around her. She knows he’s listening for any more Infected because he doesn’t even breathe, let alone release her. The air smells like dust and rotten blood over the scent of mud and pond water wafting off Joel. The Runners are still twitching slowly, the fungus in their muscles contracting and twisting. Despite the stuffy heat of the house and the sweat from sprinting for her life, she shivers.

“A’ight.” Joel grunts, his shoulders falling as he relaxes from his defensive stance. He finally lets her go and puts her solidly back on the ground, unwrapping his arm around her. She doesn’t sway, necessarily, but the ground tilts under her more than she is expecting, and he puts a sturdy hand on her arm, grounding her.

“Whoa, you good?”

She’s already nodding, pressing a hand on the wall behind her and letting her brain right itself. She squares her shoulders and stands properly, glad to feel the firm hardwood beneath the soles of her sneakers. She takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” and another. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.”

He lets out a little huff and slings his shotgun back over his shoulder, dropping into a crouch and bending over the bodies to check their pockets. “They’re fresh, we should keep an eye out.” His tone is casual and gruff as always, but the adrenaline still pumping through her body makes her bristle.

“I _was_ keeping an eye out.” She grumbles, adjusting the straps on her shoulders. Joel pockets two rifle rounds from the Runners and stands.

“Yeah.” He says in that way that isn’t an agreement nor a disagreement. She’s slowly gotten her breath back, and the sweat coating her is cooling along with her temper. She kicks at the floor, scuffing some of the leftover trash covering the ground. It didn’t matter if she was being careful or not— they’d still gotten the jump on her.

He finally turns and looks at her, dark eyes sweeping over her—he’s always done this, and it had taken her a long while to understand what he was doing. Only after what happened with Henry and Sam had she finally realized it was his way of making sure she wasn’t bleeding through her clothes or had a knife sticking out of her back or something. Apparently, Sam’s hidden injury had triggered enough in Joel to make him double check that she was indeed conscious and coherent a little more than was warranted. As much as she wishes he didn’t have to make sure she isn’t actively dying, it is nice to know that he checks on her.

She sticks her hand in her pocket and retrieves her knife, much more happy to walk around the empty house with it in her fist. Now she just has to try not to attack any moving shadows.

Joel’s turned away now, already heading down the hallway to see if the stairs are blocked. She closes the front door with a heavy thump just for good measure.

“Uh—“ She says, having already decided to say something but not exactly sure how to go about it. “Thanks by the way. You totally saved my skin there.”

“Mmph.” He says, only a little way down the hall. The upstairs must not be accessible. She smirks a bit at his half-assed response. She knows that he doesn’t do well with emotions— like gratitude— but that doesn’t mean she still can’t try to crack through his stone exterior. Now a days she only gets more glimpses of the man underneath, and while sometimes Joel’s ability to kill a man in one breath does frighten her, her trust that he’s a good guy is only continuing to grow.

Joel is but a simple southern man, and she’s seen plenty different sides of him to know he’s more human than most, and yet she still occasionally finds herself amazed by him. He’s nothing but incredibly capable— She’d been inches away from death and in one movement he had yanked her out of harm’s way, no communication or investigating necessary. He’d yet to be bested by the infected, and she knows she can trust him to stay alive.

She wants to say more— to thank him again even though she just has— but she knows it will just bounce off of him, so instead she gets used to walking again and trails after him, exploring the house in search for goodies.

And if being in the same room as Joel the whole time means she feels safe, then so be it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review!


	3. Hair Tie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie needs a hair tie. Suggested by Peppermint_smile here in the comments! Thanks for the suggestion!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a lil one

Joel doesn’t always have to pay close attention to Ellie. She’s old enough and plenty competent enough that he can trust her to capably follow behind him, even when the terrain is tough and bandits are stalking them or clickers are hovering nearby. It’s nice because he can focus on making sure they don’t get ambushed by infected and securing supplies, and she doesn’t slow him down—most of the time.

She’s tough and holds her own. She seems unbothered by the slowly cooling weather. Fall is upon them, and the leaves are close to falling. It makes the days comfortable for traveling, but the nights can be bitter cold if they’re not prepared.

They’re trekking through yet another thin forest, climbing over the small cliffs and taking the hills one at a time. She seems to be enjoying the scenery.

He listens to her on and off, mostly because she’s almost always making some kind of noise. It’s because of this that he hears something snap and her quick “ _Ow,_ fuck!”

He turns on instinct, eyes automatically seeking her out to make sure she’s not in immediate danger. She’s not—she’s standing on a mossy rock some thirty feet away with her hands tangled in her hair. She drops her arms, and her red hair falls down her back. She cringes, shoulders hunching up. She doesn’t move.

“You alright?” He asks, taking a couple small steps back towards her. There’re birds chirping above them.

“Yeah,” she sighs a little, shoulders dropping. “My hair tie broke and I don’t have another one.” Her face scrunches up as she talks. “I hate having it touch my neck. Too sweaty.”

That makes sense, he thinks. There’s a lot of things Ellie deals with that he’s simply never had to even consider—like having long hair to keep from getting tangled and gross. He’d lived with Tess for years and can only remember a handful of times when her hair had ever made an appearance in his mind, but he knows that she was constantly wrestling with it.

He’s not sure what Ellie’s plan is if her hair tie is broken, but he’s sure she’s got some sort of notion. He doesn’t bother asking because he knows she’ll tell him either way. He can’t see her running around with it down—this he knows from experience—an excess of hair is nothing but a nuisance when trying to run or hunt or _shoot._

She shuffles in place for a moment, either thinking about what she’s going to do or still grieving the loss of her last hair tie. He turns around again, picking back up where he left off and climbing up two more larger rock outcroppings that stood between them and the rest of the path. He hears her follow— the snapping branches and low grumblings are never too far behind him.

When he looks at her a couple minutes later, she’s got her hair tucked into the hood of her sweatshirt and a very unhappy look on her face. For some reason something inside of him is pressed to make it go away.

“So you need another hair tie, right?”

“Yeah,” she says, kicking at a small rock and sending it sailing deep into the forest. She’s got her hands stuffed into her pockets, probably in an attempt to keep from ripping her hair out. Somehow, despite being perfectly healthy and standing in the bright October sun, she looks miserable.

Well, he thinks he’d probably be miserable too if his own hair was stuck to the back of his neck.

They carry on like that. She doesn’t have another tie, and he doesn’t have anything to offer her—at least he doesn’t think he does. She doesn’t hold them up about it—there’s no houses they could go searching for one in anyway. He hears her behind him only a couple of times—she’s silent, which is strange enough in itself, but he doesn’t even hear her kicking at rocks or jumping off various tree stumps. She’s shuffling behind him, hands wrapped around her backpack straps and hair tucked into her shirt.

He remembers something. “Would a rubber band work?” He asks. She looks up at him, obviously having not expected the question.

She nods. “Yeah, totally.”

He kneels down where he stands and unzips his backpack, digging out a bundle of sharp shivs. He’d been using a band to hold them all together, but he can just put them in a different pocket on his bag. He frees the band and holds it out.

Ellie jogs over and snatches it, a grin breaking out on her face. “Oh awesome! Thanks!” She pulls all her hair up in a flash, quickly and efficiently twisting the tie around it. Her face brightens, and she tightens the ponytail with a tug once she’s done. “That’s way better. Thanks.”

She shrugs her backpack higher and does a little hop before wandering on ahead, veering to a large stick taller than her. He already knows that she will claim it and use it as a “walking stick” before growing bored of it and leaving it behind.

He packs away his shivs and stands, slinging his bag back onto his back.

It’s the small things that matter sometimes, and its no skin off his nose.

In the oncoming months, if he accidently finds himself picking up stray hair ties when he sees them… well, it’s to save his rubber bands, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please review!

**Author's Note:**

> please review!


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